he was often in money difficulties, he knew that there
was always money in the background; indeed, he was
too fond of announcing himself as the heir to a large
property in Sussex. One cannot help wondering
what Shelley’s life would have been if he had
been born poor and obscure, like Keats, and if he
had been obliged to earn his living. Still more
curious it is to speculate what would have become of
him if he had lived to inherit his baronetcy and estates.
He was anticipating his inheritance so fast that he
would probably have found himself a poor man; but,
on the other hand, his powers were rapidly maturing.
He would have been a terrible person to be responsible
for, because one could never have known what he would
do next; all one could have felt sure of would have
been that he would carry out his purpose, whatever
it might be, with indomitable self-will. It is
also curious to think what his relations would have
been with his wife. Mrs. Shelley was a conventional
woman, with a high ideal of social respectability.
A woman who used to make a great point of attending
the Anglican services in Italy was probably morbidly
anxious to atone, if possible, for the one error of
her youth. It is difficult to believe that Shelley
would have continued to live with his wife for very
long. Even his theory of free love was a very
inconsistent one. The essence of it is that the
two parties to the compact should weary of their union
simultaneously. Shelley seems to have felt that
he had a right to break off relations whenever he
felt inclined; how he would have viewed it if his partner
had insisted on leaving him for another lover, while
his own passion was still unabated, is not so clear.
He would no doubt have overwhelmed her with moral
indignation.
But in spite of all his faults there is something
indescribably attractive about the personality of
Shelley. His eager generosity, his loyalty, his
tenderness are irresistible. One feels that he
would have always responded to a frank and simple
appeal. A foil for his virtues is provided by
the character of Byron, whose nauseous affectations,
animal coarseness, niggardliness, except where his
own personal comfort was involved, and deep-seated
snobbishness, makes Shelley into an angel of light.
Shelley seems to have been almost the only person who
ever evoked the true and frank admiration of Byron,
and retained his regard. On the other hand, Shelley,
who began by idolising Byron, seems to have gradually
become aware of the ugly selfishness of his character.
But Shelley himself evokes a sort of deep compassionateness
and affection, such as is evoked by an impulsive,
headstrong, engaging child. One desires to have
sheltered him, to have advised him, to have managed
his affairs for him; one ends by forgiving him all,
or nearly all. His character was essentially
a noble one; he hated all oppression, injustice, arrogance,
selfishness, coarseness, cruelty. When he erred,
he erred like a child, not coldly and unscrupulously,